Warmth
by LikeAMafiaBoss
Summary: A cold heart needs warmth in order to survive. SaruMi/MiSaru


Cold. The word that described Fushimi's current feelings perfectly. Utter bitterness, a body without a soul, a puppet... There weren't any other things inside other than this freezing cold. And he needed warmth. Warmth to keep his heart alive.

The male usually wasn't very intimate. He didn't get close to people and people didn't get close to him in return. In some way, you could say he embodied the sin of sloth; he wasn't only a lazy individual, but also one who lacked empathy towards others. No, this man wasn't the kind of guy you could easily befriend.

There had been one particular exception. If it wasn't for meeting _him_, Fushimi never would've gotten out of this coldness that seemed to engulf him wherever he went. Yata was the hot to his cold. He melted his ice and warmed his heart like no other. They were the perfect balance and therefore, a perfect match.

They swore to eachother they'd never part. That they would stay friends forever and overrun the world together. Fushimi had to admit that these times were full of happiness and color, unlike the usual grey that clouded his vision. And for a long time, it stayed like this, with them complimenting eachother perfectly.

But the dream ended sooner than expected. Yata found new friends, which drove him away from his partner. Fushimi could only watch as his own melted heart turned into ice just like before. He betrayed Yata and left him, all the while thinking that his former best friend had forgotten about the times they had spent together.

And then it happened. Months after Suoh Mikoto died, Fushimi was visited by a certain male.

"Saruhiko... What should I do?" was the only thing that parted Yata's lips. His hazel eyes looked up at the taller hesitantly. And all he could do was envelop him in an embrace, because he had come back to him. Saruhiko needed his warmth. And Yata needed his cold. After all the things that happened to them, they were still a perfect match.

Fushimi still wasn't sure what exactly drove them to get closer and eventually become lovers. It was a mystery, a puzzle that was still waiting for the one who would solve it.

There were these times when people would never expect them to actually be together. At first sight, they were merely close friends, playing videogames together and just having fun in general whenever Fushimi had a day off. They had their occasional arguements, with the taller pissing off the shorter for no reason but to see how cute he was when mad.

There also were times when Yata's light dimmed slightly upon remembering the loss of his King, his friend and the fact that HOMRA had fallen apart. These were the times when it was Fushimi's turn to cheer him up instead. Albeit clumsily, he managed to put a smile on his face again and everything would be alright. The warmth had never been any stronger than before, making the ice melt rapidly. It was mostly the sign of a strong, seemingly unbreakable bond.

But who looked behind the surface saw more than that. Love was hidden in the things they said to eachother, deep passion between the two of them developed everytime they touched eachother, kissed eachother, made love to eachother... And all these feelings and intimacy and lust took control of them in a heartbeat. Nothing could describe how they felt, and Saruhiko knew it was probably better that way. They didn't need any words for that.

Now Fushimi was left behind again, this time forever. His lover and friend was now buried six feet below him. His light had died, the warmth turned into cold. And the younger male now had nobody who could give him what he needed. He ached for the things that Yata had taken with him to wherever he went after his death. Fushimi tried to grasp and take a hold of it, but it slipped through his fingers like thin air. Instantly, his heart froze once more.

What was he supposed to do now? Better yet, what _could _he do? There was nothing left for him to hold or to love. The only thing he could do was remain the cold bitterness he was and continue his that wasn't what he wanted. The only thing he wished for was the thing he couldn't have, causing him to remain unbalanced for the rest of his life.

Pondering over this for a while, Fushimi stared outside. The sun was hidden behind dark clouds and snowflakes fluttered down onto the ground. Winter had arrived in Shizume City, with its low temperatures and white landscapes. Everything outside looked dead and devestated, waiting for new life.

The male smiled bitterly. He, too, was waiting in anticipation for spring to come.


End file.
